By Diana's Light
by leggy freak003
Summary: Draco doesn't want to be a Death Eater. He see's only one solution. He needs someone to protect him from the Dark Lord. Seeking out the Boy-Who-Lived is his only chance, but can he gain the trust of one he tormented for years? For Bemily Q's Wolves Run at Night Challenge. Post OotP.
1. Invasion

A/n: Oh, Potter fandom, I'm ba~ack. *insert evil laughter here* I decided to put my own twisted twist on Bemily Q's Wolves Run at Night Challenge. It sounded like it was right up my alley, so I'm going to give it a shot. Read and Enjoy.

D/c: All recognizable properties from the Harry Potter Universe belong to one Goddess JK Rowling. The base concept for this story belongs to Bemily Q. I'm just putting my own spin on it.

Chapter 1: Invasion

* * *

Draco Lucius Malfoy was not pleased. In fact, he was more than not pleased. He was absolutely livid at the barbarians, bastards, and beasts that his Aunt Bellatrix and her Dark Master had brought into his once pristine home. His mother, as always, had a haughty look of dignity on her fair, aged features, but after so many years, he could see the lines of disgust distinctly etching themselves along her brow and nose. He certainly didn't blame her. Crabbe and Goyle had better manners than these animals, they those two were barely intelligent enough to breathe and eat.

He knew what this was without even being told. This was their punishment for his father's failures at the end of his last school term. Saint Potter had done it again, of course. Broke more than a score of school rules, broke more than a dozen laws, but he defeated the Dark Lord once more, so of course he was a hero, and all those whom he'd trampled over to get there were now rotting in Azkaban. For now.

Personally, Draco wanted no part of it. If he'd had his way, he'd have put off the last of his schooling until this mess was over and taken his mother to some Caribbean Island, or their home in Greece, until this mess blew over. While he had no problem actively dueling his class mates, he did have some semblance of a moral compass, and he drew the line at torturing the innocent and defenseless. Something that the Death Eaters took absolute delight in, as evidenced by their boasts of tormenting muggle school children for fun.

He watched, waited at his mother's side for the congregation to settle down for their Master's new slew of plans. He kept his eyes trained covertly on one Antonin Dolohov, who wouldn't keep his slimy eyes inside his own head. His mother took his hand under the table in front of them, showing nothing on her face. But the coldness of her skin, the tightness of her grip, told Draco everything he needed to know. She was terrified, both for him, and for herself. Whatever was coming would put them both in a great deal of danger.

Silence quickly blanketed the room as the snake-like man these fools followed took his seat at the head of the tabled, and Bellatrix slid into her seat at his right side.

"I find myself befuddled." Voldemort began as the last of his present followers filed into the room, which was now standing room only. "At how we could have failed so spectacularly at the Department of Mysteries that I had to come there myself, ahead of schedule, reveal myself before we had planned, in an attempt to stop you fools from getting taken, now when I need your help to reach our goals the most. Antonin and Bellatrix are the only ones that were part of that missions that came out of it, and it is because they fled the Aurors or had to be rescued by myself from a _child_ and an _old man_."

"My Lord…"

"Be SILENT, Bellatrix." Voldemort snarled, rising from his seat. Somehow, the congregation pressed away from him, giving him a path to walk around the table in an almost perfect oval. "And now, everything we've worked for, everything we accomplished in the last year, is in tatters, and the only vestige of the prophesy which I needed to ensure my victory over the boy and the Wizarding world at large is gone."

He stopped behind Draco's chair and rested his hands above the young man's head, forcing Draco to suppress a shudder.

"I need to know that I can trust my followers. I need to know that you have my back as much as Lord Voldemort has yours." He said. "So we will plan. This time, Failure is not an option. In ten months, we will infiltrate and take Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. It will be removed from the control of one Headmaster Albus Dumbledore, who will be meeting his untimely demise at the end of one hawthorn and unicorn hair wand. Draco, please rise, and face me."

Draco did as he was bid, releasing his mother's hand. Not a soul made comment on her nearly inaudible whimper, clear as a bell in the silent room. Draco faced his father's master, his own face blank, refusing to give anything away. Not his fear, not his worry, not his disgust at the creature before him.

"Draco, this task is going to be yours." Voldemort said. "You will spend this next ten months preparing an entrance into the school for your fellow Death Eaters, and you will be the one to bring an end to Albus Dumbledore. The man is doddering, losing much of the skill and power he once had, and I can ill afford for nature to take its course. Not with Harry Potter growing more powerful by the day. No, this must be done by the end of your sixth year, or you, and your family, will not like the consequences."

"I understand." Draco said, his voice empty.

"Excellent." Voldemort said, stepping away from the young man, soon to turn set to turn sixteen in just a few short days. "Tell me the status of the Vanishing Cabinet that once sat upon the school grounds, is it still there?"

"It has been damaged and removed from the main hallway." Draco said. "I believe it's been placed in the Room of Lost Things."

"Then you will repair it, while we work from out here to secure our foothold in important places." Voldemort told him. "Thicknesse, Yaxley, what news from the Ministry?"

Draco sat back down in his chair and could feel his heart beat heavily in his chest. While he had no respect for Dumbledore, he didn't believe that he had the fortitude to cast an unforgiveable. He wasn't a fool, and knew the limits of his own strength. He took his mother's hand again and she all but broke his fingers, she held them so tight.

* * *

They sat in silence the rest of the night, and when the meeting was adjourned, Draco and Narcissa Malfoy made their way to the topmost floor of the western wing of Malfoy Manor, leaving the Death Eaters to roam about as they pleased. Bellatrix could play hostess to the trash she had let into her sister's home. Narcissa refused.

Narcissa led Draco into her personal parlor and took a seat next to the fire. "Be a dear, Draco, and pour Mummy a glass of wine."

"Would you like the Red or White tonight, Mother?" Draco asked, moving to the wet bar in the corner.

"The Red, please." She replied, resting her hand on her forehead. "Pour yourself some as well, Draco. You seem like you could use it."

"I'm only Sixteen."

"Close enough, and we're at home." Narcissa told him, accepting the glass he passed her. "How are you feeling, Draco?"

"I'm tired, Mother." Draco said, staring into the purple-red depths of the glass in his hand. "I want things to go back to the way they were, before _He_ returned. I have no desire to do this thing he bid me."

Narcissa watched her son age before her eyes. Drawn, wearily, having seen too much, too young. She knew the same affliction was in her own features, and would be in her Husband's as well, should he return. "We will figure out something, Draco. I promise you. Tomorrow, I will visit Severus. Perhaps he could help. He is ever in the Dark Lord's favor."

"Perhaps." Draco said, his voice non-committal. He'd had his suspicions about his Head of House's loyalties for some time. The man was almost too mean to Gryffindors. Particularly Potter and his friends.

Draco stopped short, his glass almost raised to his lips. "That's it."

"Draco?" Narcissa asked.

"Mother, do you remember what you and Father always told me, prior to my first year?" Draco said. "About _him_?"

"Of course, but you said that it was untrue." Narcissa said.

"I'm beginning to doubt that statement." Draco said. "Something hasn't been making sense to me, especially not after last year when that toad of a woman took over the school. He wasted no time in running her out as fast as he could. He and the Mudblood threw her to the centaurs, for Merlin's sake. And they proceeded to break in to the Ministry of Magic. A bunch of school children? In one night, did something that it took months for the Death Eaters to plan with inside help. How?"

Narcissa sniffed and set aside her wine. "We had paved the way for them…"

"True enough," Draco said, "But they rode there on Thestrals, in the dead of night, and he's tricked the Ministry into thinking he's some sodding hero instead of a kid who routinely breaks rules and laws with no regard for authority. Professor Snape absolutely loathes him.

"What do you plan to do, Draco?" Narcissa asked.

Draco walked over and kissed his mother on the cheek. "Nothing, at the moment, but I'll figure something out. I think I'm going to spend a few days with Blaise. Do you mind?"

"Not at all. Just be back for your Gala. Appearances, you know."

"Of course." Draco said.

He drained his wine and stepped out of his mother's Parlor and into his own room, more than willing to get out of this place for a few days.

"Just where do you think you're going?" Came a voice like silk from his door. He turned to find us Aunt standing there, tapping her wand against her cheek.

"To Blaise Zambini's for a few days." Draco said. "I am still allowed to do normal teenage things, am I not?"

Bellatrix smirked. "For now. Just be careful who you talk to, Draco. The price of betrayal, even unintentional betrayal, is a steep one."

"I'm very well aware, thank you." Draco said, throwing the last of his clothes into a bag. He turned and found his Aunt standing right behind him. She reached up and lightly scratched her nails over his face.

"I'm proud of you, Draco." She said. "I know your father will be, too."

Draco bit his tongue, but somehow, very much doubted that his father would be proud of this. "Thank you."

"Go, enjoy what's left of your childhood." Bellatrix said. "Merlin knows we don't get nearly enough of it in the Wizarding world."

Draco nodded and the dark haired woman turn to leave the room. "Aunt Bella," Draco called, softly.

"Yes, Draco?"

"Keep that dog, Dolohov away from my mother." Draco said. "He's been eyeing her since he got here, and I'll hex his bits down his own throat if he tries anything with her."

Bellatrix smirked. "Of course I'll protect her, Draco. She is, after all, my sister." And she left without another world.

He finished packing the things he wanted to take with him. He knew that if anyone would be able to help him with what he was planning, it would be Blaise, who, while acting like the dutiful son and Slytherin, refused to subscribe to the theory that all purebloods should stand above the muggleborns.

Having witnessed the power that was Hermione Granger, Draco was beginning to agree with him. After all, from all reports, she'd blasted Dolohov into next week, even while sustaining several of the darker curses in the man's repertoire. Perhaps not all mudbloods were useless.

* * *

He stepped into the Floo network without as much as a glance back. He needed his head together, and worrying for his mother would only cause distraction.

Draco stepped out of his friend's fireplace, startling the house-elf that had been cleaning the room.

"Can Tilly help Sir?" the House Elf asked.

"Fetch Blaise. Tell him that Draco Malfoy is here."

The elf bowed and disappeared with a nearly inaudible crack.

A few moments later Blaise was walking into the room with one Daphne Greengrass at hand. "Draco, what brings you here?" Blaise asked, walking up to shake the blond's hand.

"My home has been invaded by Death Eaters." Draco said. "I needed to get away for a few days. I hope you don't mind. It's only till the 4th."

"Not at all." Blaise said, stepping aside. "Tilly, take Draco's bag up to the guest room next to mine. Come, Draco, we can talk in my Parlor."

Draco nodded and followed his friend up into the house. "A pleasure to see you, Daphne." Draco said.

"Likewise, Draco." Daphne said, "You don't look well."

"It's been a stressful night." Draco admitted. "What with the Dark Lord and his forces having invaded my home and all."

"There's no need to get snippy, Draco." Daphne said. "We're all friends here. Breathe, relax, even if it's only for a little while. We know you never do anything without a purpose, so we'll discuss what you really came for a little later."

Draco almost smiled at how well his classmates knew him. They settled into the parlor and Blaise ordered refreshments for the three of them and started and idle conversation with Daphne over their potions essay due in the beginning of the year.

Draco shook his head and listened to the idle chatter. It comforted him to know that despite the fact some of his ties had been made purely because of mutual advantage, he had a couple friends that he could and would readily trust, if not with his life, than with his secrets.

"So what is it that you need, Draco?" Blaise asked.

"I need to locate Potter." Draco said.

There was stunned silence that met that statement. Blaise sat a little straighter and Daphne set aside her glass and crossed her legs.

"And why is that?" Blaise asked.

"How secure is this room?" Draco asked.

"Tilly," Blaise called.

The elf appeared and bowed low. "Master?"

"Set up the impenetrable wards around the parlor so that no one can get in or hear what's going on." Blaise said.

"Of course, Master Blaise."

"They do not come down until I say so." Blaise added as the elf snapped its fingers.

The elf bowed and disappeared again.

"Useful little things, House elves." Blaise commented. "Tilly is tied directly to me. My mother can't order her around. My father left her to me."

"Amazing." Draco said. "Business, then?"

"Please."

"I'm seeking out Potter because I'm defecting." Draco said. "I've been set a task that neither I, nor my mother, want me to complete, lest I end up in a cell next to my fool father. And quite frankly, I'm beginning to think Potter is the bigger threat in this war."

"What do you mean, Draco?"

"He led a group of six students into the London Ministry offices in the dead of night on Thestrals after throwing Umbridge to the Centaurs." Draco told them. "He tricked the Dark Lord into coming out of hiding early, and destroyed the physical recording of a prophesy about the battle between himself and the Dark Lord."

Blaise frowned, considering it. "Alright, but the Potters are blood traitors. Have been for several generations now. Saint Potter was raised up by muggles."

"Not his choice." Daphne pointed out. "He could have hardly protested his home at barely one year old, Blaise. It's the fault of that doddering old fool, Dumbledore. The way I heard it, he wasn't even aware he was a wizard until he was 11."

Draco nodded. "I think he's got more going for him that any of us realized. I need to talk to him, directly. I refuse to go to Dumbledore."

"I don't blame you, there." Blaise muttered. "So you want me to track down Potter's summer home?"

"I would appreciate it." Draco sighed. "I've no idea how I'm going to get there, but I need to speak with him before the school year begins."

Daphne frowned. "We could take the Knight Bus." She said.

"We?" Draco and Blaise asked simultaneously.

"I can't speak for Blaise, but I personally don't feel any sympathy for the Dark Lord's cause. My mother and father have been singing his praises for months now, but honestly, he hasn't had a real victory since he got his body back, and I don't know that his idea of a perfect world would be something I'd like to live in. I don't think all that highly of the mudbloods, but how can we condemn them for something that they have no control over? They didn't ask to be without magical parents, and the fact of the matter is that no muggleborn has ever been sorted into Slytherin House, so why should we worry, as we only have to deal with them outside of our dorms, and we're all perfectly capable of ignoring those who are below our notice."

Draco laughed with her. "While I would agree with you, I'm beginning to question all of the things we were taught as children."

"Why is that, Draco?"

"Granger."

Greengrass faltered. "Why?"

"According to my Aunt, she took on Dolohov. She won." Draco told her. "Unless there's something in Granger's parentage that she doesn't know about, she's a prime example of why Mudbloods aren't to be trifled with."

Blaise hummed low in his throat and adjusted his shirt collar. "You really have changed this summer, Draco."

Draco frowned and stared into the amber liquid in his glass as if it had all the answers. "We're of a dying breed, Blaise." He swirled the contents and stared at his father's face in its depths. "We talk about keeping the bloodlines pure and not tainting them, but our families are dying off. I'm the last in the Malfoy line, and if I don't marry, my name ends." He looked up at his friend. "But on the other side of that coin, should I marry a pureblood witch, I'm quite probably her cousin in some manner or another, and that just seems …"

"Wrong?" Daphne asked.

Draco nodded. "But were I to find a Half-blood witch, or Merlin forbid, even a Muggleborn … I can't bring myself to see it as tainting the bloodlines anymore, but freshening it. Malfoys can only have one child. It's a curse in the blood, as long as it's pure, there's to be only one child …"

Daphne shared a looked of concern with Blaise. "Draco, why are you thinking about all of this now?"

"Because in ten months, I may not have a future." Draco replied. "At least, not if the Dark lord has his way."

* * *

In the dinning room of Malfoy Manor, Lord Voldemort sat with his most trusted followers. Bellatrix Lestrange, despite the failure in the Ministry, had delivered Potter into his waiting hands, as she was supposed to. Severus Snape had managed to infiltrate Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry so thoroughly that Dumbledore himself was eating out of the young man's hands. Rudolfus and Rabastian Lestrange had served him faithfully, serving years in Azkaban for attempting to find and resurrect their master. Finally, Amycus and Alecto Carrow, who held no value of their own, but were both singularly gifted in magical torture. To the side sat Narcissa Malfoy, not actively part of the conversation, but aware none-the-less due to Bellatrix's insistence that she was not to be left alone with the lower members of the fold. With Lucius out of the way, fallen from favor, she would be attacked and defiled, and Bellatrix still loved her sister, in her own twisted way. Voldemort would allow this, provided that the woman not be able to hear their plans.

There were things said here that he could not have leaking into the realm of the light. These next months were crucial in stabilizing his empire, whether the Ministry of Fools were aware of him or not.

* * *

A/n: There's the first chapter. It's going to be a slow start, unfortunately, I'm still working out the kinks. Let me know what you think.


	2. One Hundred-Eighty Degrees

A/n: And here we are with chapter 2. Sorry this took a little longer than I wanted to get out but Harry is being an uncooperative little bugger. Hope this one lives up to the standards of its predecessor. Enjoy.

D/c: Anything recognizable from the Harry Potter franchise belongs to one Lady and Mistress JK Rowling and Warner Brothers. The plot is based on the on the Wolves Run at Night challenge issued by Bemily Q. Therefore, i own nothing.

Chapter 2: One Hundred-Eighty Degrees

* * *

Harry James Potter had learned a lot of things about the world around him during this summer at his Aunt and Uncle's. First and foremost that things weren't always what they seemed. His aunt had changed over the last school year. He wasn't quite sure what had changed about her. He couldn't place his finger on it, but something had changed. It was in the little things. She didn't look at him like something a cat hacked up anymore. She didn't use sharp tones with him anymore. Not that he minded, but he didn't know what to make of it.

His cousin and uncle, however, were unpleasant as ever. They seemed to be going out of their way to run him out of the house. Not that it would work. He couldn't leave until Dumbledore gave him permission because of the wards and both Dudley and Vernon were too scared of him to actually do him real harm.

Because of that, when night fell, Harry wandered about the house until the wee hours of the morning, all but refusing to be in the presence of his cousin and uncle during the day. Tonight, however, was a little different, because it found his Aunt sitting at the table with him, having tea in almost complete silence.

Harry, being the intelligent and observant young man that he was, knew that there was something on her mind that she wanted to discuss with him, but couldn't find the words. So he bridged it for her.

"What's on your mind, Aunt Petunia?" He asked her, setting down his cup. Her face pinched, as he'd expected, and it was a glimpse of the woman that he'd known for most of his life.

"Just tomorrow's chores, boy, don't ask silly questions." She said waspishly, waving her hand at him.

Harry sat back and raised an eyebrow at her. "Aunt Petunia, in the sixteen years I've known you, never have I seen you kept awake at night because of chores, mostly because you know you have me around to help you do them, even after a dinner party. What's wrong?"

Petunia sniffed. "You're too smart for your own good, Harry." She said. "Alright, but Vernon must _never_ find out, nor Dudley. It was my luck that Vernon was such a Muggle that Dudley was born without magic."

Harry blinked. "I'm sorry, what?"

Petunia sighed. "I'm a witch, Harry. Same as your mother was."

Harry sat back for a moment, nonplussed. "But you … you said when I was eleven … I don't understand … I-"

"I hide it, because of Vernon." Petunia told him. "I loved him enough that was willing to lock away my wand and ignore it all." She sniffed. "You have to understand, Harry, that I was never comfortable in the Wizarding world. Sure I got my education there, because my parents wouldn't allow anything less, but it wasn't for me. Part of Vernon's appeal was that he was absolutely ordinary, and I would never have to work because my husband would take care of me."

"So why tell me now?" Harry asked.

"Because I can keep up with the news just as much as you can. I knew last year something was off when you kept sneaking papers and hiding in the bushes to watch the news." Petunia said. "All of these murders, disappearances, people being found comatose, people being found savaged. I've seen it all before. And it all ended the night my sister died. Now it's started again, and I don't understand why."

Harry ran a hand through his hair unconsciously, wondering how much of what he was hearing was true and how much of it was his aunt seeking information, how much he should give her, and if there was any possible way a Death Eater had put her under the Impirius Curse while he'd been at school, because it was such a Voldemort thing to do.

He sighed, deciding that the well known facts were best.

"You knew about Voldemort, and the First War?" He asked. "Even if you were in the muggle world, surely you knew what was going on in the years before mum and dad died."

Petunia nodded. "I did. It was part of what drove me out."

"And of course you know that when my parents were killed that night, and I got this scar, then Voldemort was supposedly destroyed." Harry said.

Petunia nodded again.

"He's back." Harry sighed. "It wasn't him that was destroyed that night, but his body. He survived, and he resurrected himself two years ago and has been building his army behind the scenes ever since. Last June, while I was sitting my O.W.L.s, some things happened that forced him to come out of hiding. Now he's back to his old tricks."

Petunia's fists clenched on the table and Harry watched the lights flicker for something that was, for once, not his fault. He didn't know adults could do accidental magic. "And how are they going to destroy him this time? Does anyone even have a plan?"

Harry frowned, toying with his napkin. "Me. I'm the plan."

Petunia rose, and spun around, now pacing the kitchen. "You? A sixteen year old boy? You're going to fight one of the darkest wizards to walk the earth in recent memory? You're only half trained!"

"It wouldn't be the first time." Harry muttered.

Petunia paused. "What?"

"It wouldn't be the first time. I seem to have a bit of a hero complex." Harry answered.

Petunia growled under her breath. "Oh, you are so very much James Potter's son. That boy didn't have a lick of sense his parents gave him, and Dorea and Charlus were just so proud of how their boy was out fighting Voldemort every day. Him and Sirius Bleeding Black. I tell you, Harry, I never understood why your mother got involved with any of those boys. Why she didn't settled down with a nice Hufflepuff or Ravenclaw boy I'll never know, but she would have been far better off than hanging around those Slytherins and Gryffindors."

Harry gawked at his aunt, barely able to process the words coming out of her mouth now that she was in a full tirade about Gryffindor Bravery.

This was Aunt Petunia. Muggle among Muggles.

And she was raging about Gryffindor Bravery.

Before either of them could take another breath, an explosion rocked the house to it's foundation, causing both their heads to whip around. Petunia's to the stairs and Harry's to the front street.

"Vernon and Dudley …" Petunia muttered.

"Go make sure they're safe." Harry said, pulling his wand out of his pocket. "Something tells me we're not sleeping anymore tonight."

"Death Eaters?" Petunia asked.

"Probably."

Harry bolted into the front room, trying to get a look at what was going on down the street. He frowned, looking around. Lights were flicking on up and down the street. He stuck his head out the door and his eyes widened.

An entire battalion of Death Eaters. On Privet Drive.

How was he supposed to fight them alone? Even if his Aunt had a wand, it would be two against thirty. He growled under his breath. Where the hell was Dumbledore's protection now?

Harry grumbled as he ducked back into the house and saw his uncle and cousin thundering down the stairs.

"What the blazes have you brought down on us, Boy?" Vernon snarled, grabbing him by the scruff of his neck.

"Right, like this is my fault." Harry grumbled. "I was told that the protections on the house that kept me safe from these clowns would last until I was 17, Uncle. If they're not working, then I don't know what's going on."

Vernon growled. "Don't get cheeky with me, boy."

"Dad, calm down." Dudley said, grabbing his dad's shoulder. "Harry, do you know who they are?"

"I know who they are, I know who they work for, and I know what they want." Harry told his cousin. "There's nothing you can do to fight them, like I know you're thinking. They'll kill you before you can get close enough to hit them. They're wizards." He looked at Vernon. "Magic. My kind. They'll kill you for breathing before you'd have a second to shout. Do us all a favor, go back to your room, hide in Aunt Petunia's walk in closet, and pray to whoever it is you pray to that they don't come in this house."

Vernon was turning a rather fetching shade of puce before Harry was finished but Dudley, clearly having earned a fraction of his mother's brains, grabbed his father and headed for the stairs as Petunia was coming down them, a bright yellow wand in hand. Vernon and Dudley both stared at her in shock, Vernon turning even more purple in the face.

"You lied to me." He growled.

"For this very reason." Petunia told him. "I can help Harry protect our home and neighbors, and I intend to do it. If you have a problem with that, Vernon, then we can deal with it after this is all over."

"Mum?" Dudley asked.

Petunia smiled at her him. "I'll explain everything later, Diddykins. Protect your father, would you?"

Dudley nodded and continued dragging his now enraged father further into the house.

Petunia came to stand by Harry. "We're on our own, aren't we?"

Harry could hardly find his voice. "Looks like it." He croaked. "It seems that my so-called protectors have taken the night off. Probably Mundungus Bleeding Fletcher's turn to watch and he's bailed out for some underhanded deal or another. He's pretty good at that."

Petunia nodded. "So what do we do?"

Harry thought for a moment and smiled. "Do you still have Mrs. Figg's number?"

Petunia frowned. "Of course, but I don't see … She's not?"

"She's a squib." Harry said quickly. "She can get in contact with the Order."

"The good guys?" Petunia asked as the two headed for the phone.

Harry made a slight affirmative noise, taking the phone as Petunia dialed.

"Hello?" came a tired female voice after a few rings. "Who is this? Why are you calling so late?"

"Mrs. Figg, this is Harry Potter." Harry said.

"Potter?" the woman asked. "Harry, what is it? Why are you calling so late?" she repeated.

"We have Death Eaters on Privet Drive, Mrs. Figg." Harry explained. "I need you to get in contact with the Order and get me some back up. I can't take them all alone."

"Don't take them at all, Harry." Mrs. Figg said, suddenly alert. "I'm begging you to wait until the Order gets there, at the very least. I've just set off the alert."

Harry made an impatient nose. "How long?"

"Any moment now, Harry, please just don't do anything rash."

"I won't." Harry said. "Thank you."

He hung up and nodded to his Aunt as the two headed back towards the door. Petunia checked the windows and gasped. "Oh dear, They have Mrs. Polkiss in the air, Harry, we have to do something."

"Has anyone else arrived yet?" Harry asked.

Petunal frowned. "No … I take that back. Yes, people are apparating in."

Harry nodded. "Lets go."

Petunia threw the door opened and darted out before Harry could say anything more. He darted after her, watching as she felled three Death Eaters and caught Mrs. Polkiss with her wand. Harry wasted no time in beginning to throw spells along with the others. He recognized Mad-Eye Moody and Remus Lupin, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, and several others of the order now battling the masked figures coming up the street.

Harry found himself locked in a duel with a figure he knew all the well as Antonin Dolohov. He was the reason that Hermione was in St. Mungo's for the first few weeks of break. Harry gave no mercy. He threw the robed figure into wall of their neighbors. With a vindictive smirk he stunned the man and threw him under a body bind. He escaped the Department of Mysteries. He wouldn't escape this time.

Harry spun and took out the Death Eater coming at his Aunt's back as she took out the one coming at her front. Harry dove into the fray with renewed fervor, flinging hexes, keeping up with the most skilled of the Order members. When the first of the ministry officials arrived, the Death Eaters that were still able retreated without hesitation, a few taking their comrades with them, but mostly saving their own hides.

Ministry officials swarmed the streets of Privet Drive, teams ducking into each house, Harry assumed to Obliviate the families therein of what they've just seen.

Harry waited, his Aunt standing behind him, her hands on his shoulders as an official Harry recognized as Amelia Bones approached them.

"Petunia," she said, addressing the other woman first. "Its been a long time."

"It sure has, Amelia." Petunia said, smiling. "How's the family?"

"Edgar and his daughter Susan are doing wonderful." Amelia said, smiling back. "Unfortunately we lost the others to this lot during the First War."

Petunia's hand fluttered to her mouth. "I'm sorry to hear that."

"It's nothing." Amelia said stiffly, suddenly back in Ministry mode. "It seems you and young Mr. Potter have had an eventful night."

"We certainly have." Petunia said, her hand tightening on Harry's shoulder for a second. "He's not in any trouble is he? Under aged Magic and all."

"No, no we've lifted many of the under aged restrictions in light of the Death Eater threat." Amelia said, nodding. "I'm assuming that the muggle he did magic in front of last year was your husband?"

"My son, actually." Petunia said. "Dudley was born a muggle."

Amelia nodded and turned her eyes on Harry. "We meet again, Mr. Potter."

"A pleasure, Madame Bones." Harry said politely. "In the hedges over there is Antonin Dolohov, I believe. He was in the Department of Mysteries last month."

"So he was." Amelia said, smirking. "Well, I'm sure they'll have some fun with him in the DMLE. The way I understand it the Aurors are having some fun with the DoM assailants."

Harry nodded. "You'll understand that he put a good friend of mine in the Hospital because of that incident, so I was probably a little crueler than I might have needed to be."

Amelia shook her head. "Not at all, Mr. Potter. These are Death Eaters after all." She turned back to Petunia. "We can … eh … take care of your husband and son if you'd like us too. I'm sure they're none too thrilled about the night's events."

Petunia shook her head. "No, I daresay that Vernon is rather upset with Harry and I at the moment, but it's for the best that they remember tonight. If you'll excuse us, Amelia, there are some parties waiting to speak with Harry and I do still need to deal with Vernon and Dudley."

"Of course." The other woman said, bowing slightly. "Perhaps I'll see you soon."

"I'll write." Petunia said, smiling.

Amelia nodded and moved away as Mr. and Mrs. Weasley ran up, Mrs. Weasley wrapping Harry in a fierce hug.

"Are you alright, Love?" She asked, clutching his face as she pulled away, looking him over.

"I'm fine Mrs. Weasley." Harry said, grasping her wrists and rubbing her arms to calm her down. "I promise. Aunt Petunia had my back the whole time."

Mrs. Weasley turned to Petunia and hugged her as well, shocking the younger woman. "Oh, my dear, you must be in so much shock."

Harry let the two women fuss over each other for a moment as he stood with Mad-eye, Remus, and Mr. Weasley. All three were congratulating him on "such fine dueling."

Thirty minutes later Harry was sitting in his Aunt's dinning room having tea with Remus and Mr. and Mrs. Weasley. Vernon and Dudley were still upstairs, Vernon still steaming about all of the "freaks" that were in his house. Harry honestly wasn't sure what he was more angry about, the "freaks" in his house, or that his wife was one of them and serving them on the "good china" in the middle of the night after having just witnessed a massive battle on his front lawn (which was still crawling with Ministry officials).

"I was surprised to see you out there, Petunia." Remus was saying, smiling at her. "Especially considering why you left."

Petunia sniffed. "I couldn't let Harry run off and fight all by himself, and I certainly wasn't about to let those animals attack my home."

Mrs. Weasley smiled at patted her hand. "Of course you couldn't." she said. "Harry, has Dumbledore contacted you?"

"I have a letter upstairs." Harry said. "He was supposed to come get me day after tomorrow, but something tells me those plans have changed. Mrs. Weasley …"

"Molly." She corrected softly. "You've certainly known me long enough."

"Molly." Harry conceded. "How's Hermione doing?"

Molly smiled. "She's just fine, Harry. No lasting effects from all those nasty curses she took."

"Good, I'm glad to hear that." Harry sighed, smiling. He knew that Hermione wouldn't tell him anything for fear of worrying him, and Ron would first have to write a letter that didn't involve the latest Quidditch scores.

"Well, we won't keep you any longer." Molly said, turning to her husband with a pointed look. "I'm sure there are domestic affairs that still need settling. Remus?"

"Just a minute, Molly, and I'll be right behind you." Remus said.

Molly nodded and she and Arthur got up and walked into the other room, apparating away with a pop.

Harry turned to Remus, curious. "What is it?"

"I don't know if anyone has told you, Harry," Remus said, setting aside his tea, "But Sirius left everything to you. That means Grimmuald Place, as well. And Kreacher."

Harry frowned. "I don't suppose we can make an exception to the rule for once and take the little bugger out, could we?"

Remus shook his head. "We're the good guys, Harry."

Harry snorted. "Right. Okay, then we'll have to figure something out for Kreacher, but the house is still under Fidleus, right? Dumbledore as the Secret Keeper?"

Remus nodded. "That's right."

Harry frowned. "We'll have to figure something out with that. I'll be in touch."

Remus looked at him curiously. "Oh?"

"It's time some things start changing." Harry said, smirking at his father's remaining friend. "I do hope that you'll be willing to assist in this."

Remus nodded slowly. "I'd be more than happy too."

"Excellent." Harry said. "I'll be in touch."

Remus nodded and rose from his seat. "Tuney, lovely to see you. I do hope we'll see each other in the future."

"I'm sure of it." Petunia said, hugging the other man. "It was good to see you again as well, Moony."

Harry, who was still wrapping his head around his aunt being a witch, just shook his head as Remus vanished on the spot. Harry looked at his aunt. "Ready for the encore?"

"Your uncle?" Petunia asked, smiling tightly. "Harry, have you learned nothing in the last 16 years? I'm always ready to deal with Vernon."

Harry just shook his head and bowed, motioning towards the front room.

"Vernon, Dudley, you can come down now." Petunia called up the stairs, heading into the living room. She sat herself primly on top of her usual chair and Harry moved to stand at her side. This, he simply had to see.

Vernon came storming into the room, Dudley just a half step behind, looking more frightened than Harry had ever seen him. Vernon was almost purple in the face with his rage and Harry was almost positive that the man was about to burst.

"Sit, Vernon," Aunt Petunia said, motioning to Vernon's easy chair. "And we can talk about this like rational adults."

"What's to discuss?" Vernon roared. "You told me you'd gotten rid of that blasted thing. That you would never do magic again. You swore to me that we would be safe if we took that bastard in and that when he turned 11 we wouldn't need to worry about it anymore."

Petunia crossed her legs and leaned back in her chair looking, in Harry's humble opinion, like a Mob Don from that American program Dudley liked so much. The Sopranos or some such. Harry smirked as the petite woman sitting next to him folded her fingers. He rested an arm on her chair, playing the part.

"I never lied to you, Vernon. I told you that I'd put my wand away, that I would never pick it up again unless I had no other choice, and I told you that we would be safe from my world, even with Harry in the house, so long as the Headmaster's wards held." She looked up hat Harry who nodded. Turning back to Vernon she frowned. "Clearly something is wrong, or else the Death Eaters would have never come here tonight."

"I'll not have it, Petunia." Vernon snarled. "I'll not have it in my house. What you freaks do in your own unnatural world is for you to do, but I will not have it in my house, and I will not have it around my son."

Petunia came out of her seat so fast that Harry swore she'd aparated. "Do not think that I won't curse you into oblivion if you so much as think about keeping me from my son, Vernon Dursley, because I promise you that the Ministry would be sorting out your pieces for months before they could charge me with anything."

Harry stepped forward and placed a hand on her shoulder. She looked back at him and stepped back, conceding him the floor.

"The fact of the matter is, Uncle Vernon," Harry said as steadily as he could manage, "That if she hadn't gotten her wand out tonight, then we would all be dead. Had we not been as quick on our feet, then the whole street would be decimated. Like it or not, your wife and I saved your lives tonight, _because_ we're freaks."

Dudley was looking between the two of them and slowly raised his hand. "Mum?"

"Yes, Dudley?" Petunia asked.

"If you're a witch, how come I'm not a wizard?" he asked, frowning slightly at Harry. "That is the word for it, right, Harry?"

Harry nodded, slightly stunned. "Yeah."

"Because, Dudley," Petunia said, "I'm a muggle-born witch who married a bloody great muggle. The magic didn't pass to you, like it did Harry, who's mother was a muggle-born witch who married a pure blood wizard."

"Oh." Dudley said, clearly disappointed.

"Why would you want to be one of those freaks, Dudders?" Vernon asked, scandalized.

"I bet Mum could make some pretty cool stuff happen." Dudley said, smiling wide at his mother. "I know Harry can't, cause he's under age, right? But Mum could. She's all trained up, a grown witch."

"That's right." Petunia said, smiling back at him. "I could turn a pair of rabbits into slippers and have them twitch their noses when your toes are cold."

"Rubbish." Vernon spat.

Petunia cocked an eyebrow at him and gave her wand a series of quick flicks. In floated the remains of the tea service from earlier, which began to brew itself again in midair. She smirked as she also summoned Vernon's slippers from his feet and promptly turned them into a pair of rabbits.

"Do you honestly want to doubt me?" Petunia asked, taking a cup of tea as it floated to her. Harry took his just as nonchalantly. Dudley, greatly amused by the show, checked his for wires before taking it and sipping it gingerly.

Vernon, however, snarled and knocked his away. "You and that freak nephew of yours have two days to be out of my house." He snarled. "I don't want it around me, Petunia. I told you that from the beginning."

Petunia sniffed and nodded. "I'm sorry you feel that way. Dudley, of course, we'll find a way for you to visit if that's what you want. Harry and I would be happy to have you, and of course, I still love you."

"Where are you going to go?" Dudley asked.

Harry smiled and walked over to him, clapping him on the shoulder. "I have a house in London that, as soon as arrangements can be made, you'll have access to. Till then, watch the post. We'll write."

Dudley nodded. "You're leaving tonight then?"

"No sense in putting it off." Petunia said, sending away the tea service and heading for the stairs. "I'll set your room packing, Harry. You can supervise while I take care of my things."

"Sure thing, Aunt Petunia." Harry said. He glanced at Dudley. "Want to watch?"

Dudley nodded. "Sure."

Vernon was left to his sputtering in the living room, jumping every time something that belonged to Petunia flew past him. Harry smiled as he and Petunia stepped out onto the lawn, all of their things tucked into two trunks, some thirty minutes later. Vernon was left with nothing to say as he watched his soon-to-be ex-wife and her nephew step up to the curb and hold their wands aloft as if hailing a cab.

"I'm sorry it had to come to this, Vernon." Petunia said as a large purple triple decker bus came into view. "Perhaps when this new war is over, we can work out our differences. For Dudley. Diddykins, I'll keep in touch."

"Okay, Mum." Dudley said. He hugged her good-bye and stepped back as she lifted her's and Harry's trunks into the back of the bus. Harry took her hand and helped her up before turning to his uncle and cousin. He nodded to Dudley, who nodded back, before he set his eyes on Vernon.

"Do try not to poison Dudley against her, Vernon." Harry said. "I know some rather unpleasant people who would be more than thrilled for a target for several of their experiments, and as you technically married into the Wizarding community, you're fair game."

With little more than a wave, he stepped onto the bus, joining his aunt on one of the beds that peppered the main level. He tossed the conductor two galleons to cover their fair and they were off to the Leaky Cauldron. Arrangements needed to be made.

* * *

A/n: Let me know what you think! I know it seems like a lot too quick, especially after what I said last chapter about a slow build, but I'm trying to set myself up for where I want and need to go. I'll figure out the pace soon enough. I look forward to hearing from all of you.


	3. Transition

A/n: And here we are with Chapter 3. Thanks for all of your feedback in the last chapter, I'm glad to know that people actually like this story. Enjoy the chapter.

D/c: I don't own anything, much to my eternal dismay. Instead, I twist and play in someone else's sandbox, because I can. Basis for the plot belongs to Bemily Q for her 'Wolves Run at Night' Challenge.

Chapter 3: Transition

* * *

Harry stepped out of the Knight Bus and reached up to help his Aunt down. "You know, it strikes me how very surreal this all is." He commented as the conductor put their trunks on the ground in front of them.

"Which part?" Petunia asked. "The part where I'm a witch, or the part where I'm fixing to take you into Diagon Alley to settle your affairs with Sirius Black's estate?"

Harry laughed. "All of the above." Petunia smiled and flicked her wand and their trunks floated beside them and into the Leaky Cauldron. Harry looked around and tossed a careless wave to Tom the Bartender.

Petunia laughed at him and shrunk both of their trunks for easier transport. She led the way into the back patio of the Leaky Cauldron and stared at the brick walls for a moment.

"Blast, it's been too long." Petunia muttered, folding her arms.

Harry chuckled lightly and stepped past her, rapping the correct bricks in rapid succession.

"Thank you." Petunia said stiffly.

"Relax, Aunt Petunia." Harry told her, leading the way into the street. "Honestly, there's no reason to go over all cold. You've been out of the Wizarding world for two decades. Honestly, I'm surprised you're as good with a wand as you are."

Petunia fluttered her hand dismissively. "Some things are like riding a bike, Harry."

"Somehow, I believe you." Harry told her. "You know, it occurs to me that certain conditions on the wards may have failed prematurely."

"Why do you say that?" Petunia asked.

"Well, the wards were supposed to hold and keep me safe so long as I could call the place where my mother's blood flows home." Harry explained.

"I remember. Our house would have been the only place in the world that you would have been safe from Voldemort, which I never understood because at the time we thought he was dead." Petunia said.

Harry nodded. "Dear Aunt, either we were lied to, or you were already planning on leaving and taking me with you."

Petunia huffed a little. "You're far too smart for your own good, young man."

"News to me." Harry commented as they pressed their way to Gringotts. "I can't say I'm upset about it." He told her. "What you ever saw in Vernon is beyond me. Ordinary or not, the man is insufferable."

"I have a lot to apologize for, Harry." Petunia told him. "A lot of it I can't even begin to explain or make up for."

Harry nodded. "Just tell me why. For sixteen years I thought you hated me, my mother, and magic. Why?"

Petunia smiled. "Lets deal with this and then we'll get dinner, and I'll tell you. It's a dreadfully long story."

Harry nodded. "Sounds good."

* * *

That night, Harry sat down with his aunt in 12 Grimauld Place, comfortable at last with the revelations of the last several hours. Here, in the place where his Godfather had lived, it didn't seem so difficult to believe. He served dinner for the two of them, banishing Kreacher to his water tank, lest he be polite or useful.

Petunia smiled and nodded her approval of the food and the two ate in silence. When dinner was done and cleared, Petunia poured herself a glass of wine, and seated herself by the fire. "I suppose, you'll want to hear the whole story." She murmured.

"I would appreciate it."

Petunia nodded. "From a very young age, both Lily and I demonstrated the ability to use magic. Our parents were worried that there was something wrong with us, that perhaps their children were born wrong. Until I turned 11. I got my Hogwarts letter and we received a visit from one Elieen Snape. She told us that the letter was not a hoax, and she had known for some time that the two Evans girls were witches, and she wanted to be able to help transition them into their new world. My parents were thrilled. Here was someone who could help them understand. And she had a boy, just Lily's age. Severus. While Tobias Snape was not by any means a kind man, he hated magic, he allowed his wife to do this because he needed my father's help with something.

"When I got to Hogwarts, I was entranced. I wanted to learn all I could. My years at Hogwarts were decidedly less eventful than yours, but each year was an adventure none-the-less. Especially after the Marauders arrived." She paused and smiled sadly.

"What house were you in?" Harry asked, unable to stop himself.

"I was a Ravenclaw, Harry." Petunia said. "I was far too booksmart for my own good, I think. But I wasn't brave like Lily, or particularly hard-working for Hufflepuff. Slytherin wasn't even an option what with my being muggle born. I was disappointed when Lily went to Gryffindor. I wanted my sister with me, as we'd always been. What was worse is that Severus wasn't even with her anymore. He'd gone to Slytherin. But we grew, we learned, Lily and Severus fell out and we lost contact with him. But I as I told you, Harry, I was always uncomfortable there. I loved magic, I loved learning, but some of the things I read unnerved me. It was my own foolishness, but when you hear about spells going wrong, you begin to worry.

"Worry is exactly what I did. So much so that as soon as I was released from my Seventh year, I went back to the muggle world, back to my parents for another year. I had always been so jealous of how well Lily had slid into the Wizarding world. She had James Potter, Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, Marlene McKinnon, so many others that were willing to help and teach her. I didn't have that. Ravenclaws, while we'll band together for academia or Quidditch, we're not particularly social, so I didn't have many friends.

"After a couple months at home, I met Vernon. He was so positively ordinary that it was love at first sight. We went on a few dates, and after six months I confessed everything to him. He didn't turn me away, like I thought he would, then he didn't even really get mad. He said that he was uncomfortable with the idea of being wed to a witch. He said that I would have to choose because he had goals that couldn't be mucked up. I agreed to put away my wand and only use it in dire times." Petunia said, smiling. "You see how that worked out."

Harry nodded. "You're amazing, Aunt Petunia."

She shook her head. "No, Harry, I'm a witch who lost her way."

Harry twitched. "I'm having a hard time believing that mum was friends with Snape."

"Met him, have you?" Petunia asked. "Unpleasant little boy, I always thought, but he was good for Lily. Lily had always been terribly shy when we were girls. Severus brought her out of her shell, made her more comfortable with what we could do. I think that was always part of my problem, that I didn't have someone to ease me into it like she did."

"I have to ask though," Harry said. "Why, for sixteen years, did you go along with what Vernon said?"

Petunia thought for a minute. "For the longest time, Harry, I was beginning to believe the lie. When you live with something for so long, it becomes a part of you, and I was angry with Lily for going and getting herself killed. She was all I had left in the world, outside of Vernon and Dudley. So I let Vernon call the shots, went with whatever he said, allowed my anger to cloud my judgment. I am sorry, Harry. I know that doesn't make sixteen years of abuse right, but I am so sorry. I hope, that one day, you can forgive me."

"You, yes, eventually." Harry told her. "Him, never."

Petunia nodded. "I don't suppose there's an empty bed I can use? I'm rather tired."

Harry nodded and led his aunt to the room that Hermione and Ginny used to use when they were staying here. He knew that he would have to eventually tell everyone that he was here. He took himself down to the library, where he was met with an eagle owl he'd never seen before, holding out it's foot for him to take the attached letter. He took it and tossed the bird one of the owl treats that were lying in a dish on the desk and took the letter. Sitting down he tore it open.

What he saw shocked him to his core.

_Potter,_

_I know that you don't trust me. I wouldn't trust me either after the last six years. Thing is, I need your help. I know you're going to think this is a load of bollocks, some ploy to get you alone with me so I can off you or something, but I'm serious. I need your help, your protection, from the Dark Lord. He wants me to do something nearly impossible, and I don't want to. I need protection for myself, and for my mother, Potter. _

_I can explain more in person. Meet me in Diagon Alley on August 21, we can talk then. Bring a damn contingent if you like._

_ Draco Malfoy_

Harry set the letter down, his mind racing. He didn't trust Malfoy, not in the slightest. He wasn't sure how to approach this. He took out some parchment and penned letters to the two people he knew would be able to help him. He noted that the Eagle owl was still sitting there.

"You're going to wait for a reply, aren't you?" Harry muttered more to himself than the owl. He scratched out "I'll be in touch." On a scrap of parchment and passed it to the owl, who took off out the window. Harry whistled for Hedwig, who swooped over from her cage. He passed her both of the letters with an affectionate brush against her feathers. "One of them is for Hermione, the other is for Remus. When you're finished, I'll need you to take one to Dumbledore, after I've drafted it. It's time the old man started answering for things."

Hedwig hooted at him softly and took flight out the window.

Harry took himself to bed. He knew that the next several days were going to be long. He needed to be prepared for it.

* * *

Draco was seething. How dare that impertinent wretch dismiss him? '_I'll be in touch,'_ indeed. Draco threw the letter into the fire and watched it crumble into ash. Just what was Potter playing at? Draco growled and shoved away from the fire place in Blaise's parlor. What was he to do until then?

Daphne poked her head around the corner and frowned. "Bad news?" she asked tentatively.

"No news!" Draco raged. "_I'll be in touch. _That's what I got told. That prat…"

"Is probably not sure what to make of your letter, Draco." Daphne said. "We've tormented him and his friends for five years, Pet. I doubt he'll be very welcoming. He's probably trying to come up with a plan. A way to ensure your loyalty and sincerity."

Draco frowned. When she put it that way, it made sense. He took a deep breath. Perhaps he was being a bit irrational. Letting Malfoy Pride cloud his judgment. Potter was still a prat.

"Thanks, Daph." Draco said, running a hand through his disheveled blond hair. "I need to think more clearly. Once I go home, I'm stuck there until our Diagon Alley trip on the 21st of August."

"Why so close to September?" Daphne asked.

"Because it's the one day that Voldemort will allow everyone to leave and tend to their children." Draco said. "He wants us all at Hogwarts, of course, but it's mostly fathers among the ranks, and he firmly believes that a woman's place is with the children. My aunt and a few others get a pass because they're childless, but …"

Daphne walked over and rested a hand on Draco's arm. "I'm sorry, Draco, that you're going through this."

Draco shook her hand off and nodded his head. "Things will get better," he assured her, "When Potter wins."

Daphne nodded in return. "I think you're right. We need to freshen the bloodlines. Too many interbred families, too many close ties. It results in people like your aunt Bellatrix. I think, Draco, that you may be on to something there."

Draco cocked an eyebrow at her. "And what makes you say that, Daphne?"

"I've received a letter from my mother, apparently I'm to be wed to one Theodore Nott after we graduate." Daphne said. "To think of being tied to scum like him for the rest of my life … It's almost more than the stomach can bear. I want more for myself. I want more for my sister, Astoria."

"I don't blame you." Draco sighed.

"We need to do something, Draco," Daphne said. "Our parents are in far over their heads, and I don't want to make the same mistakes they have. I don't want to be bowing and scraping for the rest of my life to a man – monster – that doesn't even consider me a human being. And if Potter doesn't come through…"

"He will, Daphne." Draco told her, resting a hand on her shoulder. "He's too much of a bloody hero to ignore a cry for help, even if it comes from one of his worst enemies."

"Lets hope that doesn't get him killed, then, shall we?" Blaise asked, walking into the room. "Come on, breakfast is on the table."

The three teens adjourned to the dinning room, where Blaise's mother sat, waiting for them. She smiled warmly at the two of them, though it didn't reach her eyes at all. Draco had a deep dislike for the woman, but he tolerated her for Blaise, who was a good friend to him.

The dinning hall, like most of Zambini Manor, was a grand affair with a high ceiling and Greek Columns that framed grandiose bay windows, beset by a long oak table in the middle. Ms. Zambini enjoyed grandeur, and could afford to spoil herself and her son stupid with the money left to her by her many deceased husbands. She was known as the Black Widow of the Wizarding World, and no man dared to go near her anymore.

"Draco! How lovely to see you, Darling." The older woman crooned, coming around the table to meet them.

Draco gave her a very stiff, proper bow and kissed her knuckles properly. "Thank you for having me, Ms. Zambini. I apologize for popping in unannounced, but I could scarcely stand to be in my own home another moment with riff-raff like Greyback mucking about the place."

"I understand completely, Draco." She simpered, placing a hand on his cheek, far too familiar for his comfort level. "You're welcome here any time."

She turned away from him and flounced down to her customary seat at the head of the table, while Blaise directed his friends to chairs closer to the middle.

"Sorry about her." Blaise said, unfolding his napkin. "She's starting to itch for a new beau, I think, and she's got her sights set on someone my age. Merlin knows why…"

"If she weren't your mother, Blaise…" Draco muttered.

"Don't hold back on my account." Blaise told him. "The barmy woman only lives here because I allow her too, remember, and I still need her around while I'm technically under age."

"True enough." Draco sighed, thinking of his own mother. He would write her later that day just to make sure she was alright. "So what are our plans for today?" he asked.

"Homework." Blaise told him. "I'd like to get it out of the way so that I don't have to worry about it. I'm sure you'd agree. Zambini Manor has a rather extensive library to help with those blasted essays McGonagall and Flitwick insist on assigning us every summer. Afterword, I have estate business to attend to, so you and Daphne will be, unfortunately, left to your own devices."

Draco nodded. He didn't yet have control over his own estate, but he knew it was a matter of time before his father was broken out of prison and began his training in it's management. "Perhaps I'll join you. I'm rather curious."

Blaise nodded.

They ate breakfast in silence after that, leaving Draco to stew over Potter's response. He may not have known him well, but he knew enough to be sure that Potter would help them. He only hoped that it didn't take the bastard too long. He needed to get his mother to safety before it was too late for either of them.

Damn that bastard, Voldemort, anyway.

* * *

A/n: And there you have it. Let me know what you think~


	4. Red

A/n: And here we are with Chapter 4. I do hope you enjoy it. Sorry for the wait, we're having some technical difficulties with our internet.

D/c: Any properties recognizable from the Harry Potter Universe belong to Warner Bros. Studios and JK Rowling. The Base concept is Property of Bemily Q and her Wolves Run at Night Challenge.

Chapter 4: Red

* * *

Harry came down the stairs the next morning to find his Kitchen full to busting with redheads. His poor aunt sat in the middle of a proper Weasley breakfast. Hermione, Harry noted, sat with her, comforting her. Hermione looked up as Harry came in and smiled at him, patting Petunia on the hand.

"Harry!" Ron yelled, getting out of his chair. "How've you been, Mate? Mum told us Death Eaters attacked."

"Yeah." Harry said. "I'm fine, Ron, really. How did you know where I was?"

"Dumbledore wrote Mum this morning." Ron said. "We grabbed Hermione on our way in."

"Is that so?" Harry murmured. He tamped down on his anger and smiled at Ron. "Good to have you, Mate. We'll catch up later, yeah?"

"Sure."

Harry stepped around his friend and was met with a smaller, more feminine redhead in the form of Ginevra Weasley. She gave him a sly smile that would have boiled the blood of a lesser man and rested a hand on his chest. "Harry, if you get a minute later, I'd like to talk to you. Privately." She slid her fingers up to toy with his collar and he heard a clatter from the direction of his Aunt and Hermione.

"Later." Harry said, pushing her hand away and dismissing her. Much as he cared for and respected the Weasley clan, he wouldn't, much to Molly Weasley's assured consternation, date the youngest. She was simply too forceful for him. He stepped around her and moved towards his aunt.

He bent and kissed the older woman on the cheek. "Good morning, Aunt Petunia."

"Good morning, Harry," She replied, her voice tight. "After breakfast, we need to talk."

"Of course," Harry replied. He moved around her to hug Hermione. "Hello, Hermione, good to see you."

"Same here." She said, hugging him back a little more stiffly than normal.

Harry leaned down by her ear. "I'd like to speak to you this morning as well, about the letter I sent you last night."

"'course." She hissed back.

Harry rose and moved around to take his seat at the head of the table. This was, after all, his house.

"Oh, Harry, dear, good to see that you're up." Molly called, floating several trays of food into the dining room. "That Kreacher has been wreaking all sorts of havoc this morning, do you mind taking care of him?"

"I'll take care of it." Harry said, leaning back in his chair. He caught her eye and he noticed the flash of something he couldn't quite name when her gaze landed on him. "So Dumbledore told you I was here, did he?"

"Oh, first thing this morning. Arthur'd barely gotten off to work before Fawkes came in and delivered the letter." Molly said. "Packed up the kids and came right over, we did, thought you might like a spot of breakfast. Albus didn't say that you'd brought your Aunt with you, though, Harry. Didn't you tell him?"

Harry's lips quirked into a smirk. "I didn't tell him that I'd left Privet Drive at all, Molly. I imagine that he was tipped off by his wards failing. Those same wards that were supposed to keep Privet Drive safe from Death Eaters. Did he say anything else?"

"Not at all, just that it would be prudent that you not be alone, what with what happened at the end of the school year." Molly said, serving her children each in turn first.

Harry took a survey of the four redheads seated around him. Ron and Ginny happily tucked into their food, neither of them noticing the building tension around them. The Twins, however, were not as oblivious. The two, it appeared, were having a silent conversation and shooting glares at their mother's back as she puttered around the table, dishing out food for Hermione, Petunia, and Harry now.

Harry held his tongue, but he noticed that his Aunt was ready to burst at the ill manners of the people around them. He noted that while Ron and Ginny were already stuffing their faces, the Twins, Hermione, and Petunia were waiting, watching him out of the corners of their eye.

Harry suddenly understood and reached for his fork to spear some eggs, eating them quick as he dared with Molly Weasley's eagle eye on him. The other four joined him in eating then, something he noted with curiosity.

Breakfast passed quietly, and Molly cleared the table, moving into the kitchen to set the wash. Harry, not wanting any sort of confrontation just at the moment, led his Aunt down to the library where they could talk. The Twins stopped him on the way out.

"Noticed you got a bit of a queue to talk to today, Mate." Fred said.

"But we'd like for you to put us on your list," George added.

"As our financial backer, we have some things we feel we need to discuss with you." Fred finished.

"Of course." Harry said. "Just after lunch?"

"Sounds great." They agreed before heading towards the upper levels. Harry was fairly certain that they had set up a miniature lab in their rooms last summer.

Harry shook his head at their antics and stepped into the library, his Aunt behind him. She warded the doors with a casual flick of her wand, and started pacing back and forth. Harry sat himself behind the desk and waited while she worked up some steam.

"Oh, that woman." Petunia hissed. "How dare she, come into your house, uninvited, and treat you like some sort of guest. At least those twins of hers have some sort of manners. Oh, when I came downstairs this morning, I had kittens. She's just barging out of the fireplace, barking orders at her brood like she owned the place."

"She's like that." Harry said. "Thinks she has command of everything around her, thinks that she knows best. She was adamant last summer that I was too young to know anything about the war, even if I am apparently the lynchpin in its victory."

"You were fifteen, though, a child," Petunia murmured.

"No, Aunt Petunia, I haven't been a child in some time." Harry told her. "I've watched friends and loved ones murdered before my eyes. I'm turning sixteen in a few days, almost a man. Something tells me that even then Molly Weasley would still consider me a child."

"So what are you going to do about her?" Petunia asked. "Surely you're not going to let them stay here and treat you like a second class citizen all summer. I won't have it, Harry. Nor will I be treated like some addle-brained twit who can barely hold a wand."

Harry smirked. "No, they won't be here all summer. In fact, I think the redheads will have overstayed their welcome by supper. Hermione, however, I'd like to stay. She got dragged along, it seems, but I have something I need her to help me with and she knows this library better than anyone I know." He frowned. "I need to get in contact with Dumbledore, unfortunately, and several members of the Order. I need to start getting my fingers into some pies so that I can start getting a hold on where this War is going."

"You're changing, Harry." Petunia said, pride on her face. "And I think it's for the better. You're starting to sound like your mother."

Harry folded his hands. "I'm glad you think so. Do me a favor, will you, send Hermione in? She and I have some things to discuss."

"I'll set the door with some time released wards." Petunia said. "So the two of you can have some privacy."

"Thank you."

Harry sat contemplating for a minute while he waited, staring into the fire that was burning behind his desk. Dumbledore had set the Weasleys on him for reasons unknown. He didn't buy that Dumbledore thought he needed companionship because of Sirius' death. If that were the case, he would have never been sent to the Dursleys in the first place. Dumbledore didn't suddenly change his mind about things like that. Harry was certain that the man would be around at some point to set the same blood wards that had been over Privet Drive. It would simply be another, inexpendable, layer of protection around the Order of the Phoenix headquarters. Harry frowned, unsure how he liked that. He needed this place to be his safe haven. He didn't exactly enjoy the idea of people being able to come and go as they pleased, but Sirius had offered up this house as headquarters so that he could do something to help with the war effort, trapped here as he was.

Harry's eyes darkened. Dumbledore's decisions were leading directly to the loss of lives. He'd kept a man like Sirius cooped up for too long, and it had gotten him killed when he recklessly dashed into battle. Cedric Diggory had died as well, because Dumbledore had trusted the wrong man. Unable to tell that his friend wasn't who he claimed to be.

In the eyes of the Light, Dumbledore was a saint who could do no wrong.

Harry frowned. He didn't like that thought one bit.

"Harry?" came a soft voice.

Harry shook off his dark expression and turned to one of his best friends. "Hello, Hermione, how are you?"

"I'm alright." Hermione said smiling. "Mum and dad are visiting relatives this summer, so I was kind of relieved when Ron and Mrs. Weasley showed up to get me. I got your letter, though. You said you needed my help with something."

"You spent a lot of time in here last summer, didn't you?" Harry asked, motioning to the stacks.

"You know I did." Hermione said. "Mostly cleaning, but I remember it pretty well. Mrs. Weasley tucked most of the darker books away upstairs, probably didn't want any of us getting ideas. Told me that I had to check with her or Remus before reading anything."

Harry frowned. "I think I'm going to lift that ban. We're not idiots, you and I, and I need your help on a little research project."

"Nothing to do with school, I imagine."

"Nope."

Hermione smiled at him. "Recreational research, now this is unlike you. What topics?"

"Two things." Harry told her leaning forward. "Dark Lords and binding spells."

"Dark Lords are easy." Hermione said. "Especially in a house of a Dark family. What sort of binding spells?"

"I need something that can tie at least two people together, so that there's no chance of lies and betrayal." Harry told her. "But I have no idea where to begin looking."

Hermione thought about it for a minute. "That might take some work, so we'll want to start with the Dark Lords. What specifically are you looking for?"

"How they're created, what causes them, how to recognize one, how to defeat one." Harry said. "Something in my gut is telling me that something more than the prophesy drew Voldemort to me that night. Neville was born the day before I was, and yet he wasn't even considered as a viable option. Why?"

"You think it has something to do with Dark Lords?" Hermione asked.

"I don't know, but I want to find out." Harry told her. "I'm sure you've noticed the change in me over the last year, Hermione. I'm not exactly the meek boy hero I was in our first year. Things have changed."

Hermione nodded. "I noticed. Harry, if the Weasleys find out about this … Molly is going to pitch a fit."

"The Weasleys will be gone by supper." Harry said. "I love them to death, but I didn't invite them. I wanted some time in peace, to make peace with my Aunt, to get this research done, and to figure out what the hell I'm going to do about this war. I was going to invite them for my birthday, but Dumbledore just had to muck up my plans."

Hermione smirked. "You certainly have changed." She murmured. "I'll just get started then. If you need me, I'll be in the stacks."

She turned and sashayed away, causing Harry's mouth to go dry. "Need you is something I certainly do." He muttered to himself.

He picked up the letter that was sitting on his desk from Remus, accepting his invitation to stay at Grimmuald Place for a while. The man would certainly be an asset, and Harry wanted to get to know him better. He was the last remaining link, alongside his aunt, to his parents, and certainly his last to his father. He felt he owed it to the man. He picked up his quill and started drafting the first of what was sure to be many letters to Dumbledore. It was time they stopped treating him like a child.

He looked up from his letter to see Hermione's lithe form leaning against the book cases to reach a book and he bit back a small groan. The woman would be the death of him, he was sure of it.

Still, if they could find what they were looking for, then he could bring Draco and Narcissa Malfoy under his protection, and that in and of itself would be a boon to his cause. The Malfoys were just as old and just as dark as the Blacks, and they could be of more help than anyone in the Order of the Phoenix, bar Snape, whom he was also hoping to make amends with.

What a world of work that would make, Harry mused to himself.

A pounding on the library door brought both him and Hermione out of their concentration. "Harry James Potter open this door right now." Came Molly Weasley's irate voice.

"Supper might have been a bit late." Harry muttered to Hermione, walking over to the door. He opened it to find a fuming Mrs. Weasley. "Can I help you?"

"Just what are you and Hermione doing locked up in the library?" Molly asked, hands on her hips and hair wild. "Harry, I thought better of you."

Harry stared at the older woman for a full minute. "Mrs. Weasley,"

"Molly."

"Molly, then," Harry conceded. "It may have escaped your notice, but not all of us are like Ron and Ginny with near zero control of our impulses. Hermione is doing some research in the library and I'm responding to a few of my letters from other people. The door was warded by my aunt so that we could have some peace and quiet to do so, nothing more, nothing less. Honestly, do you think she would have left us alone if she didn't trust me?"

Molly stood stuttering for a moment before finding her voice. "Well I … I wouldn't pretend to know what kind of woman your Aunt is, I just … I was just worried about you, of course."

"Do me a favor, then," Harry told her. "Don't. I'm nearly sixteen, and I've been taking care of myself for a lot longer than that. I've tried to be tolerant about this, Molly, because I do care for you and Arthur, and the family, but I'm not a child, and I'm certainly not your child. I appreciate what you've done for me, I do, but I can't help but feel a bit smothered and put out sometimes when you treat me with different set of standards from your own children."

"Harry," Molly said, puffing up, "How dare you, I would-"

"No, how dare you, Mrs. Weasley." Hermione said, coming forward. "Harry has saved the lives of three people in your house, and yet you come into this house, His house, and treat him like a guest. Treat him as if he were somehow less. You may not share a great deal of the Pureblood views, Mrs. Weasley, but you certainly do have a similar caliber of thinking when it comes to Half-bloods and muggle-borns. Don't think I haven't noticed how you talk down to Mrs. Dursley and me lately."

Harry frowned. "I think it best if you and the others are gone by supper. You will, of course, be invited back for my birthday party, but I wanted some peace and quiet to get some work done around here and get to know my aunt a bit. Hermione is staying to help me with a project I'm working on, and Remus will be here in a few hours, so I won't be alone."

Molly sniffed very properly and nodded. "I'll see to it that it's done. I'm sorry we intruded on you."

Harry nodded and stepped away from the door, closing it behind the older woman. Turned to Hermione and frowned. "Sorry about that. Something tells me that this isn't over between us."

"Likely not." Hermione said, biting her lip. "I mean it, Harry, its ridiculous the way she's been treating us lately."

"I don't think it's a recent development." Harry said. "We're just old enough, experienced enough, to recognize it now."

Hermione huffed a little. "It certainly explains a lot, doesn't it? With the way Ginny and Ron have acted over the years, like they're better than us. Especially during Fourth Year. He got all bent out of shape until you started being treated like a hero again. You should have seen him when you weren't around, Harry, it was deplorable."

Harry hummed in assent before moving over to the desk. "Molly has always considered us too immature to deal with the truths of this war … Arthur has no back bone … It doesn't surprise me that her older children are scattered to the four winds."

Hermione nodded and lay the book in her hand on the table in front of him. "In other news …"

"This the book on Dark Lords?" Harry asked.

Hermione nodded. "Harry, I only skimmed it, but it looks like this could be the answer that you're looking for, to whatever question you have. Apparently there are two types of Dark Lords. Made and Born."

Harry looked up at her, stunned. "You're joking."

Hermione shook her head. "But it makes sense. There are those born into Dark Families, like the Blacks and the Malfoys, and then there are those that are tempted to the Dark Magics. Like Professor Snape was and Grindewald."

Harry nodded in understanding, running his fingers over the cover of the book. "This is good. This will help."

"Harry, what are you thinking?" Hermione asked.

"Things have been changing since Sirius died, Hermione." Harry told her. "I'm seeing things in a way that I haven't before. Like a seal has been broken. Everyone talks about my parents as if they're Saints. James Potter and Lily Evans being the best of both worlds … Except for certain factors. I hear all the time about how brilliant a witch my mother was, gifted with Charms and Potions. My Dad was such a great prankster, always in trouble. Sirius told me stories about some of the stuff they'd done…"

"You don't think it's true?" Hermione asked.

"I don't think the Potters were the sainted couple of the Light that everyone makes them out to be." Harry said. "After all, my dad was an unregistered Animagus at 15, Mum was friends with Snape for the longest time. It stands to reason that they had something going for them. Just because Dad didn't support Voldemort, doesn't mean he was a light wizard."

Hermione nodded. "I'll see if I can pull up anything on Wizarding Genealogy."

"Thanks." Harry said. "You don't know what this means to me, Hermione."

"I agree with you, Harry." Hermione said. "Something's fishy about what we've been taught about recent history. Almost as if certain facts are being glossed over."

Harry nodded. "Remus will be here soon. Surely he can shed some light on things."

Hermione nodded and turned to the Stacks. "If you need me, I'll be in the back. Rituals have their own section."

Harry nodded and sat down, studying the cover of the book she'd handed him. "I'll holler."

Hermione nodded and disappeared behind the shelves of books. Harry leaned back in his chair with a finger to his lips, contemplating. He needed to know the truth of everything. He was tired of people hiding things from him, talking down to him. He was being treated as a weapon of war with no feelings or thoughts of his own and that was going to stop. Dumbledore, the Weasleys, the Ministry, all of them were going to realize that he was not just some point and shoot weapon to end all of their problems.

He would make sure of it.

* * *

A/n: And there you have it. Drop me a review and let me know what you think. I enjoy hearing from all of you. See you all next time.


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